The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(142)

He wasn’t expecting the force of my reaction, that was clear. He pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t be difficult, Bella.”

My eyes flashed to the window; we were halfway to the school already.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I demanded in horror.

He gestured to his tuxedo. “Honestly, Bella, what did you think we were doing?”

I was mortified. First, because I’d missed the obvious. And also because the vague suspicions — expectations, really — that I’d been forming all day, as Alice tried to transform me into a beauty queen, were so far wide of the mark. My half-fearful hopes seemed very silly now.

I’d guessed there was some kind of occasion brewing. But prom! That was the furthest thing from my mind.

The angry tears rolled over my cheeks. I remembered with dismay that I was very uncharacteristically wearing mascara. I wiped quickly under my eyes to prevent any smudges. My hand was unblackened when I pulled it away; maybe Alice had known I would need waterproof makeup.

“This is completely ridiculous. Why are you crying?” he demanded in frustration.

“Because I’m mad!”

“Bella.” He turned the full force of his scorching golden eyes on me.

“What?” I muttered, distracted.

“Humor me,” he insisted.

His eyes were melting all my fury. It was impossible to fight with him when he cheated like that. I gave in with poor grace.

“Fine,” I pouted, unable to glare as effectively as I would have liked. “I’ll go quietly. But you’ll see. I’m way overdue for more bad luck. I’ll probably break my other leg. Look at this shoe! It’s a death trap!” I held out my good leg as evidence.

“Hmmm.” He stared at my leg longer than was necessary. “Remind me to thank Alice for that tonight.”

“Alice is going to be there?” That comforted me slightly.

“With Jasper, and Emmett . . . and Rosalie,” he admitted.

The feeling of comfort disappeared. There had been no progress with Rosalie, though I was on quite good terms with her sometimes-husband. Emmett enjoyed having me around — he thought my bizarre human reactions were hilarious . . . or maybe it was just the fact that I fell down a lot that he found so funny. Rosalie acted as if I didn’t exist. While I shook my head to dispel the direction my thoughts had taken, I thought of something else.

“Is Charlie in on this?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Of course.” He grinned, and then chuckled. “Apparently Tyler wasn’t, though.”

I gritted my teeth. How Tyler could be so delusional, I couldn’t imagine. At school, where Charlie couldn’t interfere, Edward and I were inseparable — except for those rare sunny days.

We were at the school now; Rosalie’s red convertible was conspicuous in the parking lot. The clouds were thin today, a few streaks of sunlight escaping through far away in the west.

He got out and walked around the car to open my door. He held out his hand.

I sat stubbornly in my seat, arms folded, feeling a secret twinge of smugness. The lot was crowded with people in formal dress: witnesses. He couldn’t remove me forcibly from the car as he might have if we’d been alone.

He sighed. “When someone wants to kill you, you’re brave as a lion — and then when someone mentions dancing . . .” He shook his head.

I gulped. Dancing.

“Bella, I won’t let anything hurt you — not even yourself. I won’t let go of you once, I promise.”

I thought about that and suddenly felt much better. He could see that in my face.

“There, now,” he said gently, “it won’t be so bad.” He leaned down and wrapped one arm around my waist. I took his other hand and let him lift me from the car.

He kept his arm tightly around me, supporting me as I limped toward the school.

In Phoenix, they held proms in hotel ballrooms. This dance was in the gym, of course. It was probably the only room in town big enough for a dance. When we got inside, I giggled. There were actual balloon arches and twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls.

“This looks like a horror movie waiting to happen,” I snickered.

“Well,” he muttered as we slowly approached the ticket table — he was carrying most of my weight, but I still had to shuffle and wobble my feet forward — “there are more than enough vampires present.”

I looked at the dance floor; a wide gap had formed in the center of the floor, where two couples whirled gracefully. The other dancers pressed to the sides of the room to give them space — no one wanted to stand in contrast with such radiance. Emmett and Jasper were intimidating and flawless in classic tuxedos. Alice was striking in a black satin dress with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her snowy white skin. And Rosalie was . . . well, Rosalie. She was beyond belief. Her vivid scarlet dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared into a wide ruffled train, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. I pitied every girl in the room, myself included.